


Hold On

by sapphire_child



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Horror, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-18
Updated: 2007-03-18
Packaged: 2019-01-15 05:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12314400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: Charlie has a terrifying recurring dream that he is trying to rescue Claire. In the end he learns that to hold on to her he must first let go.Co-Authored with Pacejunkie.





	Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Takes place between 3x03 and 3x04 -- After Locke’s return but before the lightning incident with Desmond. After Charlie and Locke’s bonding quest, Charlie goes back to Locke to ask for advice about Claire.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155122168@N03/36527340953/in/album-72157686884668124/)

The jungle was a blaze of green. The colour seemed almost too bright to be decent, especially to his eyes -- used to the grey and black of the civilised world of men. He pushed his way through a particularly stubborn curtain of leaves and found himself faced with yet another. Sighing, he went to push it aside when a terrible, shrill scream rent the still air.

He froze, one hand in mid air.

And then Charlie began to run. The jungle seemed doubly impenetrable now that he had to get somewhere –- the screams had turned into a drawn out call for help and he knew that voice, that accent far too well to not be terrified at what might have happened to her.

The jungle flashed past, mottled tree trunks merging with their leafy extremities until the world became a blur and all he was focusing on was her voice crying out for him -- for help.

And then –- light! Bursting out of the jungle, he took in a heaving gasp of air as his eyes adjusted to this new world of open blue skies and yellow grass. Straight in front of him, the world continued on for three or so paces and then fell away sharply, the grass tumbling over the edge of what could only lead to...

He threw himself forwards and - clenching his stomach muscles to keep from being sick with fear – inched along on his belly until he was peering over the edge of the precipice.

Less than half a metre below him, hanging on for grim life to the remains of a tree’s root system was a terrified, dirt smudged woman. She was gasping with terrified sobs, her arm muscles struggling to hold her body up, tendons and veins straining against her skin…

And a moment’s scrutiny could tell him why. The bottom of the cliff was at least ten metres below her and filled with a collection of jagged rocks pointing hungrily upwards. He instantly began to panic and did the first logical thing he could think of.

He called out her name.

“Claire!”

At his voice, Claire looked up at him, her eyes wide and then she choked out his name in return as he finally found his brain and reached down to grasp her wrist in a vice like grip.

“Charlie!”

“Grab my hand!” Charlie yelled and Claire gladly surrendered her hold on the root for his free hand. Fingernails scrabbled desperately against palms and she swung away from the cliff face for one sickening moment before slamming painfully back into it.

Charlie braced himself and began to pull as hard as he could, surprised when Claire didn’t come up with him. It wasn’t like she was a big woman –- and he was quite strong in his upper body anyway. “Can you find a toehold?” he grunted with the effort of holding all her weight. She seemed to be getting heavier with each passing second.

Claire didn’t even seem to hear him, she seemed totally paralysed -- with fear or relief, Charlie couldn’t tell. The only part of her that was moving now was her lips, repeating his name like a mantra.

“Charlie…Charlie…”

And then suddenly Claire slipped down, her toes scrambling desperately against the wall. She uttered a short, strangled scream and the sound pierced straight through his already throbbing head. Charlie felt his arm muscles straining now, his stomach, his legs -– everywhere. _Why the hell was this so hard?_ He should have had her up by now!

He began to pull again with a renewed sense of purpose, struggling to bring her up to where she had been before. Contrary to the laws of physics however, she slid down even further. His arms were beginning to feel weak from the burden of her weight dragging him down. There were sharp rocks digging into his stomach like a thousand miniscule knives. His chest was hanging over the edge now. Her nails were digging into his skin like razors.

It was too much. He was going to drop her at any moment.

He looked down at her, into her terrified blue eyes…

Charlie gave an uncontrolled jerk as the picture before him dissolved as quickly and abruptly as someone changing the channel on a television.

Claire and the cliff face were gone. The pressure and strain in his arms were gone. In their place was a blue tarpaulin, a comfortable bed beneath him and instead of rocks digging into his stomach…

Charlie looked down to see Claire’s hand resting lightly on his lower abdomen, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. It appeared he had startled her out of sleep as well when he had woken up because as he watched she gave a sleepy sigh and then snuggled in a little more comfortably beside him and settled back into a doze almost instantly.

 _It was a dream._ Charlie mentally slapped himself. _It was just a stupid bloody dream._ He worked on slowing his breathing; the feel of his pulse beating against his skull was making him feel slightly nauseous. After five minutes he couldn’t take the pretence any more and he eased his way out of Claire’s embrace and went to splash his face with water.

His hands were still shaking when he returned to bed.

~*~

  
Changing a torn rag that passed for a nappy on a squirming baby in the sand was difficult enough; having another set of hands hovering above her own as she did it made Claire want to scream.

Claire had missed Charlie, but the one thing she didn’t miss was his tendency to hover a bit too close. She had forgotten how much that had annoyed her. She supposed he was just trying to help. She tried to be kind, but the way Charlie buzzed around her and Aaron it was as if he was desperate to make himself useful to her. _Did he think the minute she didn’t need him for something she would toss him out? Probably._ Depending on the day, Claire either found it endearing or as irritating as prickly heat. Today Claire was feeling decidedly prickly.

“Charlie,” she sighed as she put Aaron down for a nap. “You seem bored. Maybe you should go find Hurley and see what he’s up to.”

“It’s okay,” Charlie protested, not getting the hint at all. “I like keeping you company.”

She smiled. It really was sweet. It wasn’t his fault, but Claire just wanted some alone time. She knew that to tell Charlie to back off would only bring up the unpleasant memory of their break-up. The last time she had asked for space, Charlie hadn’t responded well at all.

Claire didn’t want him to take it the wrong way, but she kept hoping he would leave, just for a while. Since she had taken him back, Charlie had been acting beyond useful. He was clingy, like a child with separation anxiety. It was as if the break-up had truly traumatized him for some reason, but he had only been a few tents away. You couldn’t get very far from someone on this island, even when you wanted to. Claire couldn’t understand it. She wanted to understand this need that was driving him, but didn’t know how to ask to get the answer she wanted.

“Charlie is there something you want to talk about?” she asked finally.

He looked at her, a bit startled, and paused. It seemed as though he was preparing quite a speech but when he opened his mouth the only word that escaped was, “No.”

Claire exhaled. Well, she was too tired to pull teeth. She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes. “Well if you wouldn’t mind then, I’d like to take a nap while Aaron’s asleep.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. “Don’t worry, if Aaron wakes up I’ll get him. You rest.”

 _He really was sweet._ Then why was she so upset?

“Thanks Charlie.” she sighed.

~*~

  
“Hold on… just… hold on…”

Charlie grunted with the effort, his sweat slicked fingers grappling for traction of any kind as Claire slipped further and further down. Her feet began scrambling for a toehold, anything -– but there was nothing. The cliff face was smooth and high, steeply perpendicular to the jagged rocks below.

Claire’s face was a frozen mask of terror as she slipped down several more inches. The muscles in Charlie’s arms were cramping, begging for release, but he wasn’t going to let her go -– he couldn’t.

“Charlie…” she moaned faintly. “Charlie…”

“I’ve got you,” he panted, tugging futilely on her hands. “Just… just hold on okay?”

Claire shut her eyes and gave a small, gasping sob just as Charlie’s grip began to slip. Charlie clutched at her, panicking loudly. Claire however didn’t seem to even notice or care. She began to slide out of his grasp as easily as water.

“NO!”

“Charlie?”

As before, the dream world faded and Charlie could feel an anxious, vice like grip on his wrist. Glancing sideways he saw that Claire was beside him looking very awake and very frightened - obviously he had shouted out loud and woken her.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Claire asked anxiously. “Were you having a bad dream or something?”

Charlie let out a slow exhalation of air and tried to smile at her. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

Claire eyed him sharply. “You woke me up when you started thrashing about and mumbling and then a second later you shouted out just as you woke up.” Charlie dropped his gaze from hers and Claire tried to pull his eyes back to hers. “Do you call that nothing Charlie? Because I don’t.”

“There’s nothing wrong.” He insisted again.

“Yes there is,” Claire paused and when she spoke next her voice was blunt to hide her upset. “You just don’t want to tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” Charlie snapped suddenly. “I’m not hiding anything!”

“Yes there is Charlie!” Claire instantly flared up too, her anger matching his. “I can’t believe that you’re still trying to keep secrets from me! It doesn’t work -– we’ve seen that before!”

Charlie flinched visibly. _As if he needed reminding of that particular blunder._ Claire seemed to realise straight away however that she’d touched a nerve because she took a solid breath and softened her tone again. “Is it about what happened at the hatch? Is that why you don’t want to talk about it?”

Charlie barked out a mirthless laugh. “The hatch? No it’s not about that.”

“Well _what_ then?” Claire scoffed when Charlie simply shook his head at her and she turned away from him abruptly, gathering a sleepy Aaron out of his cradle and making a great show of tucking him up in her arms. “Well when you finally decide to tell me what the hell is wrong with you I’ll be with Sun.”

She began to stalk off but Charlie didn’t miss the way her right hand detached itself from her hold on Aaron and swiped across her face.

She was crying. He had made her cry.

The thought was enough to put him in a miserable mood for the rest of the morning.

~*~

  
Now that he was alone, Charlie had plenty of time to ponder what had happened and what it might mean, but he was afraid; afraid to interpret his dreams because of the last time.

The last experience sent him down a chasm so deep he thought he’d never climb out. He’d dreamt that Aaron was in danger, but he’d been caught with heroin and lying about it only days before. As a result, no one had believed him, and he had been forced to take matters into his own hands. The entire camp had turned on him, but the worst betrayal had been Locke’s. The man who had once tried to convince Charlie of the mystical powers of the island suddenly seemed to forget every word he had ever said as he beat Charlie to the ground. In his eyes, Charlie was reduced to a worthless junkie, who didn’t have the right to be believed.

It took a long time for Charlie to get over that, and in truth he still hadn’t. His initial boiling rage had only been reduced to a simmering anger. Charlie had looked up to the man like a father, and maybe that had been his first mistake. Locke was no father figure; he was just another survivor as confused and lost as Charlie was. He didn’t see that until the incident in the hatch, but on that day he realized that Locke was busy searching for his own truths and coming up empty.

So now it was Claire who appeared to need rescue. She hung off a cliff every night, screaming for his help but he was useless. Charlie felt more anxious each time. Every day that he did nothing might be bringing Claire closer to some actual danger. Then again, he could just be losing his mind.

He needed to talk to someone, but it couldn’t be Claire. He didn’t want her to think that he was going off the rails again. Charlie didn’t want Claire to fear him. He had to speak to someone who could tell him if the dreams meant anything. Eko was in no condition to advise him after his rescue from the polar bear cave. The only other person Charlie could think of was Locke.

It was something he swore he’d never do again, but Charlie told himself that things were different now, or so he hoped. Locke had been there when Charlie threw the last of the heroin filled statues into the deep. Charlie had been there when Locke had a vision showing him where to find Eko. Despite all that had happened between them, it was Charlie that Locke asked to guard the spirit tent while he “spoke to the island”. After that, they rescued Eko together.

They never spoke about that night on the beach, but they didn’t have to. After Locke’s prophetic conversation with a posthumous Boone, Charlie couldn’t imagine Locke would dare doubt him. The island was telling Charlie that Claire was in danger, and there was something he needed to do. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would understand.

~*~

  
Locke was whittling a piece of wood with his knife when Charlie finally found him, down near the water.

“Hey,” he called out as he got nearer.

“Charlie,” Locke nodded to him and immediately turned his attention back to his whittling. Charlie stood there awkwardly, his feet sinking into the sand. It wasn’t like John was a very talkative sort of person but the way he was ignoring Charlie felt kind of like he was brushing him off.

“What are you making?” Charlie ventured after a moment, making another brave stab at conversation.

“Nothin’ much,” Locke said unhelpfully and then suddenly, he grinned up at him, breaking the ice. Charlie grinned back uncertainly. “Just killing time really. Was there something that you wanted from me?”

Charlie seized his opportunity and sat down, his arms around his knees, holding them to his chest. He deliberately didn’t look at Locke when he spoke, choosing instead to alternate between the ocean and his own knees. He’d never realised that these particular jeans had been getting thin across the knees before but now, up close he could see that the denim was wearing away…

“I just wanted to ask you about… well… it’s just that I’ve been having these dreams lately…”

Locke put his whittling aside immediately and peered at Charlie interestedly. “What kind of dreams?”

“Well…” Charlie hesitated and then let the rest of his words out in a rush. “They’re about Claire.” He finally dared turn to Locke who was eyeing him thoughtfully.

“And Aaron?”

“No, no –- just Claire.” Charlie stipulated. “See, I’m walking through the jungle all right? So I’m walking through the jungle and I’m alone and then I hear her scream, so I run to her and she’s hanging halfway off a cliff. I run over and I try and pull her up but I can’t. And she keeps saying my name, over and over but she never says anything else.”

Locke looked even more thoughtful as his brain ticked over the possibilities and then asked, “It’s the same dream all the time?”

“Yeah, the same one,” Charlie leant forward, encouraged by the way Locke was taking this. “I’ve been having it every night. Never changes. It’s kind of like watching the same movie over and over again _ad nauseum_. It’s getting kind of annoying really.”

Locke thought for a moment, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “Have you ever been able to pull her up?”

“What? From the cliff?” Charlie shook his head. “No.”

“Well have you tried letting her go?”

Charlie nearly choked. “Let her _go_? What d’you mean _let her go_? You want me to just let her fall off the side of a bloody cliff?”

“Only in your subconscious,” Locke rationalised. “It’s not like she’s really going to die.”

Charlie stared. “John, seriously? Are you on the same island as I am?”

“Well yeah but...”

“Would it surprise you if you dreamt something like that and then it came true?”

“No. I suppose not. I see your point.”

“Exactly.”

The two of them sat there silently for a moment and then Locke opened his mouth again. “Maybe…” he trailed away and then shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Maybe the reason you’re having this dream is that you feel like you don’t have enough faith in Claire or your relationship with her and that’s why you keep seeing her in mortal peril –- you want to save her, to save your relationship, make sure it isn’t all just going to fall apart.”

Charlie was silent.

“But in that case,” Locke continued musingly. “Who’s to say that the dream is going to end with her falling to her death? Maybe it’s trying to tell you that in order to hold onto her, you have to first learn how to let go. You know, take a step back, give her some space every once in a while. She’s a very independent young woman and I think –- and keep it in mind that this is just my opinion and nothing more -- sometimes you sort of… smother her a little bit. With your feelings. And I’m sure you don’t mean to –- I mean, you can’t help the way you feel about her and the baby but…”

Charlie scrutinised the man beside him warily. This speech sounded suspiciously like the one he’d given when Charlie had stolen Aaron and been suspected of using again. That time, Locke had stepped up all too readily to take his old place beside Claire, leaving Charlie out in the cold so to speak. This whole situation seemed all too familiar and he didn’t like the way Locke was basically telling him to back off from Claire again, let her make the first move and then go from there.

“How do I know you’re not just saying this to get me away from Claire again?” Charlie said shortly. He was rapidly becoming more and more convinced that coming to Locke had been a mistake on his behalf. “The last time you told me to leave Claire alone you ended up socking me in the face and accused me of using drugs.”

Locke frowned and when he spoke it was all in one breath. “Charlie, I’ve already apologised for that incident. The evidence against you was overwhelming and I’m sorry that I came to the wrong conclusion but I promise you, I am not trying to tear the two of you apart.”

Charlie was silent, mulling over everything the Locke had said, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt.

“You came here to ask for my help didn’t you?” Locke gazed earnestly at the younger man beside him. “And that’s what I’ve just tried to do. Whether you take away what I’ve said or not is up to you.”

He stood abruptly then and left, taking his unfinished whittling with him.

Charlie sat on the beach for a long time, his brain going around in circles. He’d come to Locke hoping for guidance, some sort of straight-forward answer but instead come away with even more confusion.

Had he been too clingy again lately? Claire had told him that his clinginess was a part of what had originally soured their relationship -- as well as his overzealous parenting skills of course. But he’d toned both of those down hadn’t he? Since she’d told him? Consciously, Charlie had no idea but his subconscious certainly seemed to be giving him a pretty clear warning.

Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.

~*~

  
Charlie was squeezing so tight he thought her tiny wrist would snap. No matter how hard he pulled, Claire just wouldn’t budge.

 _I can’t let go,_ he thought. _I can’t. She’ll forget about me. She’ll stop caring._

He groaned as he struggled, unable to risk a life without Claire. Unable to trust. He would stay like this forever if he could. It was better than nothing.

But her hand was slipping.

Charlie squeezed harder, but the tighter he held on, the faster she seemed to slide out of his grasp. Soon the decision would be quite literally out of his hands, but for now they were locked in a stalemate.

Her unnatural weight was dragging him down again, closer to the edge. He dug in his shoes, gripped the edge of the cliff side with one hand and pushed back to keep from going over. His chest throbbed from his pounding heart and the pressure of the rocks against it. Sharp, stabbing pains shot through his shoulder.

“I won’t let go, Claire,” he swore.

As he looked down to give her another look of reassurance he noticed Claire’s expression had changed. She no longer looked frightened, she seemed… sad. Suddenly Charlie didn’t feel heroic.

He felt pathetic.

Despite her compromising position, Claire was gazing up at Charlie with a look of pity, as if _he_ were the one who needed to be rescued. That was when Charlie realized that it was never about Claire; that she wasn’t really here, hanging from this cliff.

Charlie knew he could hold on to her forever, but at what cost?

He let out a breath, relaxed his muscles and whispered, “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

Closing his eyes and turning his head from the precipice, he released his grip. Charlie brought his now empty hand back up, covered his face and sobbed. The sensation of weightlessness after the strain caused him to feel thin and hollow. He imagined Claire’s frightened screams, her pain as she crashed to the rocks below, the mess, the horrible crunch on impact.

Only there was nothing.

Charlie stopped crying. He opened his eyes and turned back to the ledge, peering over with a flinching squint. When he did he saw not one body but two.

Claire was smiling, safe in the arms of John Locke. He lowered her to stand at his side and they both looked up.

“I’m proud of you Charlie,” said Locke.

Then the man walked away, leaving Claire there standing at the bottom, gazing back up at Charlie, admiring him.

~*~

  
In the morning Charlie went to Sun’s tent looking for Claire. The two women sat on the shoreline with Aaron.

“Hey,” he said.

Claire looked up at him.

Charlie turned to Claire’s companion. “Sun, would you excuse us for a minute?” he asked her.

Sun smiled and rose to join Jin.

Charlie took her place in the sand and looked out at the waves.

“What is it Charlie?” she asked.

“Well, first off, I’m sorry I wouldn’t tell you what was wrong the other day,” he said. “I didn’t want you to worry, but I guess you worry more when you don’t know things than when you do.”

“That’s right,” she said.

Charlie thought for a minute and then turned to face her. “Have I been… hanging around you too much?”

Claire smiled, “Does this have to do with what was bothering you?”

He winced. “Yeah. I don’t mean to be insecure. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I don’t want to be that way. I guess I was just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” she asked.

“Afraid that unless I held on you’d let go,” he told her.

Claire reached over and took his hand. “Do you think I’ll just float up into the sky like a balloon?”

Charlie smiled. “Not exactly. More like, float over to somebody else.”

Claire looked at him, the humour set aside. “I’m not here because you hold the string, Charlie. I’m here because I choose to be. You can relax and from time to time you can let go.”

She leaned closer and they kissed. Charlie felt ready, but he also needed to count on Claire’s honesty. He pulled back.

“Just promise me that if I’m not giving you enough of your freedom that you tell me,” he asked her.

“I promise,” she said. “I won’t stew about it. I’ll speak up.”

“Okay,” he said, putting his arm around her and grinning. “And I promise not to stick you with a pin.”


End file.
